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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28815030">Alkaid Potter and the philosopher's stone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora_Abrasax/pseuds/Aurora_Abrasax'>Aurora_Abrasax</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, BDSM, Cock Warming, Creature Harry Potter, Creature Inheritance, Dark Harry, Dark Harry Potter, Dirty Talk, Extremely Dubious Consent, Extremely Underage, F/M, Father/Son Incest, Female Harry Potter, Gay Sex, Ginny Weasley Bashing, Hermione Granger Bashing, Incest, M/M, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Oral Sex, Other, Possessive Sex, Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Semi-Public Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship, Uncle/Niece Incest</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:14:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,552</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28815030</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora_Abrasax/pseuds/Aurora_Abrasax</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>10 years have passed since the fateful day, when Alkaid Potter was orphaned, now about to embark on her first magic school, she will discover that she may not be the last Potter and that the world she discovered may not be so magical.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Avery Sr./Tom Riddle, Bill Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Fenrir Greyback/Remus Lupin, Harry Potter/Blaise Zabini, Lavender Brown/Sanguini, Lucius Malfoy/Harry Potter, Luna Lovegood/Rolf Scamander, Neville Longbottom/Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom/Lucius Malfoy, Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character, Orion Black/Abraxas Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson/Ron Weasley, Rodolphus Lestrange/Harry Potter, Rodolphus Lestrange/Neville Longbottom, Rodolphus Lestrange/Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black/Original Male Character(s), Viktor Krum/Percy Weasley, Xenophilius Lovegood/Harry Potter, Xenophilius Lovegood/Lucius Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Harry Potter</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Alkaid Potter and the philosopher's stone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Eu tenho outra conta no social Spirit com o nome de @AuroraAbrasax123<br/>A história também está postada lá</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, from Rua dos Alfeneiros, 4, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, very well, thank you.  They were the last people in the world who would be expected to get involved in something strange or mysterious, because they simply did not condone this kind of nonsense.

 </p><p> Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which was drilling.  He was a tall, stocky man with almost no neck, though he had huge mustaches.  Mrs. Dursley was thin and reddish blond, had honey-colored eyes, loved Gardening because she could listen to the neighbors' conversations. The Dursleys had a little boy named Dudley, the Dudley, and in his opinion there was no better boy anywhere  the world. </p><p> The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their biggest fear was that someone would discover it.  They didn't think they could take it if someone discovered the existence of the Potter.  Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't seen each other in years;  in reality Mrs Dursley pretended that she had no sister, because she and her worthless husband were the least possible of the Dursleys.  They shuddered at the thought of what the neighbors would say if the Potters showed up on the street.  The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a little girl, too, but they had never seen her.  The girl was all the more reason to keep the Potters at bay;  they didn't want Duda to mix with a child like that. </p><p> When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the monotonous, gray Tuesday when our story begins, there was nothing in the cloudy sky outside suggesting the strange and mysterious things that would soon be happening across the country  .  Mr. Dursley hummed as he chose the most dull tie in the world to go to work and Mrs. Dursley talked happily as she struggled to fit a screaming Dudley into the high chair. </p><p> None of them noticed a brown owl that passed, flapping its wings, out the window. </p><p> At eight thirty, Mr. Dursley picked up the folder, gave Mrs. Dursley a kiss on the cheek and tried to kiss Duda goodbye, but he couldn't, because at the time Duda was having a tantrum and  threw the cereal on the walls. </p><p>"Pestinha" said laughing smugly when leaving the house.  He got in the car and pulled out of the parking at number four.</p><p> It was at the corner of the street that he noticed the first hint that something strange was happening - a cat was reading a map.  For a moment Mr. Dursley did not realize what he had seen - then he quickly turned his head to take a second look.  There was a yellow-lit cat sitting on the corner of Alfeineiros Street, but there was no map in sight.  What was he thinking at that time?  It must have been a light effect.  He blinked and opened his eyes wide for the cat.  The cat stared at him.  As he turned the corner and walked up the street, he peered at the cat in the rearview mirror.  He was now reading the sign that said Street of the Alfonsiros-no, he was looking at the sign: cats could not read maps or signs.  Mr Dursley shook his head and took the cat out of his mind.  On the way to the city he thought of nothing else except the big order of drills he was hoping to receive that day. </p><p> But upon leaving the city, the drills were swept from his head by something else.  When he stopped at the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help but notice that there were a number of strangely dressed people walking through the streets.  People with wide covers.  Mr. Dursley did not tolerate people who walked around in ridiculous clothes - the rags you saw in young people!  He figured it was a stupid new fashion.  He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his gaze fell on an eccentric little group standing very close to him.  They whispered excitedly.  Mr. Dursley annoyed to see that some of them were not young;  why, that man must have been older than he, and he wore an emerald green cloak!  What petulance!  But then it occurred to Mr. Dursley that it was probably some silly promotion - these people were obviously collecting something ... yeah, that must be it!  Traffic moved on and a few minutes later Mr. Dursley arrived at the Grunnings parking lot, thinking back to the drills. </p><p> Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the wall in his office on the ninth floor.  If he didn't, he might have found it harder to focus on drills that morning.  He did not see the owls that flew fast in broad daylight, although the people on the street saw them;  they pointed and stunned as an owl after an owl passed overhead.  Most had never seen an owl even at night.  Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal morning without owls.  He yelled at five different people.  He made several important phone calls and yelled some more.  He was in an excellent mood until lunchtime, when he thought about stretching his legs and crossing the street to buy a sweet roll at the bakery opposite. </p><p> He had completely forgotten the people in the covers until he passed a group of them near the bakery.  He looked at them angrily as he passed.  He didn't know why, but they made him nervous.  These were whispering agitated, too, but he didn't see any collection cans.  He was passing them, on the way back, carrying a big sugary donut in a bag, which caught a few words of what they were saying. </p><p> "... The Potter, it's true, that's what I heard ..." </p><p> "... yeah, their daughter, Alkaid ..." </p><p> Mr. Dursley suddenly stopped.  Fear invaded him.  He turned his head to look at people who were whispering as if he wanted to say something, but he thought better of it. </p><p> He Crossed the street quickly, ran to the office, said sharply to the secretary not to bother him, grabbed the phone and almost finished dialing the house number when he changed his mind.  He put the phone down and smoothed his mustaches, thinking ... no, he was acting like an idiot.  Potter was not such an unusual name.  He was sure that there were a lot of people named Potter with a daughter named Alkaid.  On second thought, he wasn't even sure that his niece had the name Alkaid.  He had never seen the girl.  Maybe it was Ernesta.  Or Eduarda.  It made no sense to worry Mrs. Dursley, she was always so upset at the mention of her sister.  She didn't blame her if he had a sister like that ... but still, those people in cloaks ... 

 </p><p> he found it much more difficult to concentrate on the drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he ran into a brown man there at the door. </p><p> "Sorry," he murmured when the old man staggered and almost fell.  It took a few seconds for Mr. Dursley to realize that the man was wearing a purple cloak.  He didn't seem at all upset about being almost knocked to the ground.  On the contrary, his face broke into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby look: 

 </p><p> "No need to apologize, dear sir, because nothing could bother me today! Rejoice, because You-Know-Who has finally left! Even muggles like you should be celebrating such a happy day!"  </p><p> And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the waist and walked away. </p><p> Mr. Dursley was nailed to the floor.  He had been embraced by a complete stranger.  And he also thought he was called a muggle, whatever that meant.  He was shaken.  He ran to the car and drove home, hoping he was imagining things, which he never expected him to do, because he did not approve of the imagination. </p><p> When he entered parking lot number four, the first thing he saw - and it didn't improve his mood - was the striped cat that he had noticed that morning.  Now he was sitting on the garden wall.  He was sure it was the same;  the marks around the eyes were the same. </p><p> "Spark," said Mr. Dursley aloud. </p><p> The cat did not move.  Just cast him a stern look.  Was this normal cat behavior, Mr. Dursley thought.  He was still determined not to discuss anything with his wife. </p><p> Mrs. Dursley had had a normal and pleasant day.  She told him over dinner that Dudley had learned a new word ("Never").  Mr. Dursley tried to act normally.  After Duda went to bed, he arrived in the room in time to hear the latest evening news. </p><p> "And finally, bird watchers everywhere recorded that the country's owls behaved very strangely today. Although they usually hunt at night and rarely appear in daylight, hundreds of these birds have been seen  today flying in all directions since dawn. Experts cannot explain why owls have changed their sleep pattern. "  The announcer allowed himself a smile.  "Very mysterious. And now, with Jorge Mendes, our weather report. Will there be more owl storms tonight, Jorge?" </p><p> "Well, Eduardo," said the meteorologist, "I can't tell you, but it wasn't just the owls that behaved strangely today. Listeners across the country have been calling to complain that instead of the downpour I promised to  yesterday, they have been showering with stars! Maybe someone is partying by the bonfire night a week earlier this year! But I can promise for a rainy night today. "</p><p> Mr. Dursley froze in his chair.  Shooting stars across the country?  Owls flying during the day?  Mysterious people wearing capes everywhere?  And a whisper, a whisper about the Potter ... </p><p> Mrs. Dursley entered the room bringing two cups of tea.  It was no use.  She would have to tell her something.  He cleared his throat nervously. </p><p> "Um, um, Petunia, wanted to, haven't you heard from your sister lately?" </p><p> As she expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and annoyed.  After all, they usually pretended that she didn't have a sister ... </p><p> "No" she replied dryly.  "Why?" </p><p> "Funny news" murmured Mr. Dursley.  "Owls ... shooting stars ... and I saw a lot of strange looking people in the city today ..." </p><p> "So what?" cut Mrs. Dursley. </p><p> "Well, I thought ... maybe ... it had some connection with ... you know ... her people." </p><p> Mrs. Dursley sipped the tea with pursed lips.  Mr. Dursley was unsure whether he would have the courage to tell her that she had heard the name "Potter".  He decided not to.  Instead, he spoke in the most casual voice he could: 

 </p><p> "Their daughter ... would be about Duda's age now, wouldn't she?" </p><p> "I suppose so" replied Mrs. Dursley still dry. </p><p> "What's his name again? Ernesta, isn't it?" </p><p> "Alkaid. An ugly and vulgar name, if you want to know my opinion." </p><p> "Ah, yes," said Mr. Dursley, feeling a horrible tightness in his heart.  "Yeah, I agree with you."  He did not notice the calculating look his wife gave them </p><p> He didn't say another word about it on the way to the room where they went to bed.  While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley went slowly to the window and looked out over the garden.  The cat was still there.  He was looking at the beginning of Alfeneers Street as if he expected something. </p><p> Would you be imagining things?  Did all this have a connection with the Potter?  If he had ... if he perspired that they were related to a couple of ... well he didn't think he could take it. </p><p> The Dursleys lay down.  Mrs. Dursley soon fell asleep, but Mr. Dursley remained awake, thinking about what had happened.  His last consolation before falling asleep was to think that even the Potter was involved, there was no reason to approach him and Mrs. Dursley.  The Potters knew very well what they thought of them and people like them ... I didn't see how he and Petunia could get involved with anything that was happening.  Mr. Dursley yawned and turned.  It couldn't affect them ... </p><p> How he was mistaken. </p><p> Mr. Dursley might have been falling into a restless sleep, but the cat on the wall outside showed no signs of sleep.  He was still sitting as still as a statue, his eyes fixed on the farthest corner of Alfonsoiros Street.  And he didn't even shudder when a car door hit the next street, not even when two owls dove overhead.  In fact, it was almost midnight when the cat moved. </p><p> A man appeared on the corner that the cat had been watching.  He appeared so high and silently that you would have thought he was off the ground.  The cat's tail twitched slightly and his eyes narrowed. </p><p> Nobody had ever seen anything like this man on Alfonsoiros Street.  He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, long enough to clip on his belt.  He wore long robes, a purple cape that dragged across the floor, and boots with high heels and buckles.  His blue eyes were clear, luminous and sparkling behind the half-moon glasses and his nose was very long and crooked, as if he had broken it at least twice.  His name was Albus Dumbledore. </p><p> Albus Dumbledore did not seem to be aware that he had just stepped onto a street where everything from his name to his boots was frowned upon.  He was busy feeling the cover, looking for something.  But he seemed to be aware that he was being watched, because he suddenly raised his head to the cat, which continued to fix him from the other end of the street.  For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him.  He chuckled and murmured, "I should have imagined you." </p><p> he found what he was looking for in the inside pocket of the cover.  It looked like a silver lighter.  He opened it, lifted it up, and lit it.  The nearest street lamp went out with a dry crack.  He lit it again - the lamp flickered and went out, twelve times he clicked on the "extinguisher", until the only lights on in the whole street were two tiny dots in the distance - the eyes of the cat that watched him.  If someone peeked out the window, even Mrs. Dursley, with her beaded eyes, would not be able to see anything that was happening on the sidewalk.  Dumbledore put the "stinker" back on the cover and walked down the street towards number four, where he sat on the wall next to the cat.  He did not look at the animal, but after a while, he addressed it. </p><p> "Imagine meeting you here, Prof. Minerva McGonagall." </p><p> And he turned to smile at the cat, but it was gone.  Instead, he found himself smiling at a stern-looking woman who wore square-eyed glasses exactly the shape of the cat's markings around her eyes.  She, too, wore an emerald cape.  She had her black hair tied in a tight bun.  And she looked decidedly irritated. </p><p> "How did you know it was me?" he asked. </p><p> "My dear teacher, I have never seen a cat sit so hard." </p><p> "You would have been hard if you had spent all day sitting on a stone wall" replied Profa.  Minerva. </p><p> "All day? When could I be celebrating? I must have had more than ten parties and banquets en route here." </p><p> The teacher sniffed annoyed. </p><p> "Ah yes, I saw that everyone is celebrating </p><p> "said impatiently." It was to be expected that they were a little more cautious, but no, even the Muggles noticed that something was happening.  She made the news.  She nodded to the Dursleys' dark room.  "I heard ... flocks of owls ... shooting stars ... Why, they're not completely stupid. They couldn't help but notice something. Shooting stars in Kent, I bet it was Daedalus Diggle's thing. He never had much  judgment. "</p><p> "You can't blame them," said Dumbledore politely.  "We have had very little to celebrate for the last eleven years." </p><p> "I know this" portrayed the sulky teacher.  "But it's not a reason to lose our heads. People are being completely careless, they go out into the streets in broad daylight, without even wearing muggle clothes, and spread rumors." </p><p> With a sideways glance, she gave Dumbledore a careful look, as if she expected him to say something, but he remained silent, so she started again: </p><p> "It would be cute if, on the very day that You-Know-Who seems to be finally gone, the Muggles discovered our existence. I suppose he really did, right, Dumbledore?" </p><p> "Looks like there is no doubt. We have to thank you. Do you accept a lemon ice cream?" </p><p> "A what?" </p><p> "A lemon ice cream. It's a kind of muggle candy that I've always loved." </p><p> "No, thanks" said Profa.  Minerva coldly, as if she didn't think the moment was asking for lemon ice cream.  "Even though You-Know-Who is gone." </p><p> "My dear teacher, surely a sensible person like you can call him by name. All this nonsense of You-Know-Who, for eleven years I have been trying to convince people to call you by the name you received:  Voldemort. "The teacher frowned, but Dumbledore, who was separating two lemon sorbets, didn't seem to notice.  "Everything gets so confusing when everyone keeps saying" You-Know-Who. "I've never seen any reason to be afraid to say Voldemort's name." </p><p> "I know you don't," said the teacher, looking a little exasperated, a little surprised.  "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know ... oh, okay, Voldemort is afraid of." </p><p> "This is a compliment," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I never had." </p><p> "Just because you are very ... well ... noble to use them." </p><p> "It's lucky to be dark. I never blushed like that since Madame Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs." </p><p> Profa.  Minerva gave Dumbledore a stern look and said: </p><p> "Owls are nothing compared to the rumor going on. Do you know what everyone is saying? Why did he leave? What finally stopped him?" </p><p> Apparently Prof..  Minerva had reached the point that she was eager to discuss, the real reason why she had been waiting all day on a cold, hard wall, because neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed such a penetrating gaze on Dumbledore as now.  It was obvious that whatever "everyone" was saying, she would not believe it until Dumbledore confirmed it to be true.  Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon ice cream and did not respond. </p><p> "What they are saying" she continued "is that last night Voldemort appeared in Godric's Hollow. He went looking for the Potter. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are ... are ... are ... dead  . "</p><p> Dumbledore nodded.  The Profa.  Minerva lost her breath. </p><p> "Lílian and James ... I can't believe ... I don't want to believe ... Ah, Albus." </p><p> Dumbledore reached out and patted him on the shoulder. </p><p> "I know ... I know ..." he said depressed. </p><p> The voice of Profa.  Minerva trembled as she continued: </p><p> "And that's not all. They are saying that he tried to kill the Potter's daughter, Alkaid. But ... he couldn't. He couldn't kill the little girl. No one knows why or how, but they are saying that in  time to kill Potter, for some reason Voldemort's power disappeared, which is why he left. "</p><p> Dumbledore nodded, seriously. </p><p> "Is it ... is it true?" stammered the teacher.  "After everything he did ... all the people he killed ... he couldn't kill a little girl? It's just amazing ... everything that could stop him ... but, by the Gods, how did Alkaid  survived? "</p><p> "We can only imagine," said Dumbledore. "We may never know." </p><p> Profa.  Minerva took a lace handkerchief and gently dried her eyes under the glasses.  Dumbledore took a big sniff at the same time as he took another man's watch out of his pocket and examined it.  It was a very strange watch.  It had twelve hands but no numbers;  instead, small planets revolved around them.  But it must have made sense to Dumbledore, because he put it back in his pocket and said: </p><p> "Hagrid is late. By the way, he told you that I would be here, I suppose." </p><p> "It was. And I suppose you won't tell me why you're here and not somewhere else." </p><p> "I came to bring Alkaid to his uncle and aunt. They are the only family he has left." </p><p> "You don't mean, can't you be referring to the people who live here?" exclaimed Profa.  Minerva, jumping up and pointing at number four.  "Dumbledore, you can't. I've been watching the family all day. You couldn't find two people less like us. And they have a son, I saw him kicking his mother out into the street, screaming because he wanted bullets. Alkaid Potter can't  I came to live here! "</p><p> "It's the best place for her," said Dumbledore firmly. "Uncles will be able to explain everything to her when she's older, I wrote them a letter." </p><p> 'A letter? "repeated the teacher in a weak voice, sitting down again on the wall."  Frankly, Dumbledore, do you think you can explain all of this in a letter?  These people will never understand it!  She will be famous, a legend.  I would not be surprised if today became known in the future as the day of Alkaid Potter.  They will write books about her.  All the children in our world will know her name. "</p><p> "Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the half-moon glasses.  "That would be enough to turn any girl's head. Famous before she even knew how to walk and talk! Famous for something she won't even remember! You don't see that she'll be much better off growing up until she has  ability to understand? "</p><p> The teacher opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed and then said: </p><p> "Yeah, yeah, you're right, of course. But how is the girl going to get here, Dumbledore?"  She looked at his cover suddenly as if it occurred to her that she might be hiding Aurora there. </p><p> "Hagrid will bring her." </p><p> "Do you think it is wise to entrust Hagrid with an important task like this?" </p><p> "I would trust Hagrid with my life," replied Dumbledore. </p><p> "I'm not saying he doesn't have his heart in place," the teacher grudgingly agreed, "but you can't pretend he's careful. That he has a tendency to ... what was that?" </p><p> A quiet snore had broken the silence of the street.  It grew more and more as they looked up and down the street for a car headlight signal;  the snoring turned to thunder when they both looked up at the sky - and a huge motorcycle fell from the air and stopped in the street before them. </p><p> If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing bought from the man who rode it sideways.  He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide.  He just looked too big to exist and so wild - tangles of beard and long, thick black hair hid most of his face, his hands were the size of a trash can, and his feet in leather boots looked like baby dolphins.  In his huge, muscular arms he held a bundle of blankets. </p><p> "Hagrid" exclaimed Dumbledore, looking relieved. "Finally. And where did you get the bike from?" </p><p> "I borrowed, Prof. Dumbledore" replied the giant, carefully dismounting the bike when speaking.  "Young Sirius lent it to me. I brought it, professor." </p><p> "Didn't you have a problem?" </p><p> "No, sir. The house was almost destroyed, but I managed to get it out before the Muggles invaded the place. She slept when we were flying over Bristol." </p><p> Dumbledore and Profa.  Minerva bowed to the blankets.  Inside, barely visible, was a girl, who slept soundly.  Under a lock of very black hair and some white ones falling on the forehead they saw a curious cut, it was shaped like a lightning bolt. </p><p> "Is that when ...?" whispered the teacher. </p><p> "It was" confirmed Dumbledore.  "It will keep the scar forever. </p><p> "Couldn't you fix it, Dumbledore?" </p><p> "Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one above the left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well, give it to me here, Hagrid, we better get it over with.  with that. "</p><p> Dumbledore took Alkaid in her arms and turned to the Dursleys' house. </p><p> "Could I ... could I say goodbye to her, professor?" asked Hagrid. </p><p> He bowed his huge disheveled head to Aurora and gave her what must have been a very rough and hairy kiss.  Then, without warning, Hagrid let out a howl like that of a wounded dog. </p><p> "Shhhh!"  hissed Profa.  Minerva.  "You will wake the Muggles! </p><p> "Des-des-excuse" sobbed Hagrid, pulling out a huge dirty handkerchief and hiding his face in it.  "But na-nã-I can't stand it, Lílian and Tiago dead, and poor Alkaid having to live with the Muggles ..." </p><p> "Yeah, yeah, it's very sad, but control yourself, Hagrid, or they'll find us out" whispered the teacher, giving Hagrid an awkward pat on the arm as Dumbledore jumped the stone wall and headed for the front door  .  He placed Alkaid slowly on the doorframe, took a letter from the cover, put it between the girl's blankets, and then returned to their company.  For a full minute the three of them stood looking at the package;  Hagrid's shoulders shook, Profa's eyes.  Minerva had blinked madly and the sparkling light that always shone in Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have died out. </p><p> "Well," said Dumbledore at last, "it's over. We have nothing more to do here. We can already join the others to celebrate." </p><p> "Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice.  "I'm going to return Sirius' bike. Good night, Prof. Minerva, Professor Dumbledore ..." </p><p> Wiping his eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid got on the bike and kicked the engine.  With a roar she took flight and disappeared into the night. </p><p> "See you soon, I hope, Prof. Minerva," said Dumbledore, with a nod.  The Profa.  Minerva blew her nose in response. </p><p> Dumbledore turned and walked down the street.  At the corner he stopped and pulled out the "extinguisher".  He clicked and twelve spheres of light returned to the lanterns so that Alfeneiros Street suddenly lit up with orange light and he spotted the striped cat dodging across the street.  You could barely see the blanket wrapper on the number four stop. </p><p> -Good luck, Alkaid - he murmured with a malicious smile.  He spun on his heels and, with a flick of his cape, disappeared. </p><p> A breeze tingled the well-kept fences of Alfeneiros Street, silent and quiet under the black sky, the last place in the world where anyone would expect amazing things to happen.  Alkaid Potter turned inside the blankets without waking up.  Her little hand grabbed the letter beside it, but she continued to sleep, unaware that it was special, unaware that she was famous, unaware that she was going to wake up in a few hours to Mrs. Dursley's cry as she opened the front door to put  the milk bottles outside, nor that she would spend the next few weeks taking cuddles and nibbles from her cousin Duda ... she couldn’t know that right now there were people gathering in secret across the country who were raising the glasses and  they said in hushed voices: </p><p> -A Alkaid Potter: the girl who survived! </p>
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